


Dessert and the importance of hair ties

by mintfrosting



Category: Ocean's (Movies), Ocean's Eight (2018)
Genre: Debbie's hair is really really long, F/F, Femslash, Lesbian Sex, Reunion Sex, Shameless Smut, and Lou just really really missed her, protip: dessert is a euphemism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 11:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14893460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintfrosting/pseuds/mintfrosting
Summary: “So dessert then,” says Lou.“I thought you didn’t get any cake.”Lou swirls the mouthful left in her glass. “You know it’s not cake,” she replies with a glint in her eye. She’s being a bit coy now, as though the front of her blouse isn’t already unbuttoned enough to see half her bra underneath it.





	Dessert and the importance of hair ties

**Author's Note:**

> They were so gay and I regret nothing

Lou leans forward in her seat, gazing at not-her-partner-yet from behind the thick lashes and platinum bangs that frame her soulful eyes.

“What are you waiting for?” she asks.

Debbie sits across the table, drink in hand, dressed in a freshly-stolen silk blouse and slacks. She’s not really responding to the look, just bobbing her foot and watching the bubbles in her glass.

“Am I waiting for something?” she asks. Debbie always sounds so American, almost startlingly so-- but that’s hardly a problem. In fact the Australian finds it endearing, and she’s missed the very charming, straightforward yet feminine sound of Debbie’s voice.

Lou gazes harder, if it’s possible, maybe squinting a little, maybe biting at her tongue in some attempt to stop the words from rolling past her lips.

“Haven’t you missed me?” she asks.

It’s only the second night that Debbie’s been staying here at Lou’s, but surely two nights is long enough to, well, _reconnect_... At least, that thought is pretty prominent in Lou’s mind-- the thought of getting her hands in Debbie’s hair, kissing her senseless, and feeling the flames of desire burst to life between them… It seems her eyes start to smoulder with that flame more often than she might intend-- that is to say, nearly every time she looks at Debbie. Old habits die hard.

But here and now, Debbie sips her champagne and ignores the question. “Thank you for dinner,” she says, setting down her glass to start clearing the table of chopsticks wrappers and stray drops of soy sauce. She’s wiping the table with a neatly folded napkin when Lou turns her gaze to the leftover sushi.

“Are you all done?” she asks. “I thought you loved spicy tuna.”

Debbie drops the napkin in an empty takeout container. “A lot can change in five years,” she replies.

Lou is caught off-guard by that response, and more so by Debbie’s very serious demeanor.

“What’s gotten into you?” Lou asks her.

Debbie can’t help but smirk a little. She really does love to provoke her best friend, and that much wouldn’t change given five years or ten.

“Do you want it?” Debbie asks her.

Oh, Lou wants it. She wants it bad after so many years of waiting, grasping for memories and dreaming of the day when her lover would return. She’s tried to be casual about the whole thing, tried so hard to ooze an aura of nonchalance, but on that moment when they reunited, Lou couldn’t resist a kiss-- even if it wasn’t on the lips. So she does act casual, yes, and it’s gone quite well. But after all that time, god, she wants it.

“What do you mean?” says Lou, rather desperately hoping for clarity.

“The sushi,” says Debbie.

No, not that.

“No thank you,” says Lou, and watches the takeout container snap shut. She sits there in a bit of a daze while Debbie goes about cleaning up, leaving her there with her thoughts. And all of Lou’s thoughts are of pulling open fastenings, and hot skin on skin, and the way her lover used to sigh with a glow across her chest, all panting and smelling of sex when they were done.

She remembers sucking at a cigarette on a hotel balcony while Debbie slid her arms around her waist and murmured warmly against her back, _“You’re so fucking good I can’t believe it.”_

 _“I know,”_ Lou replied at the time, and Debbie laughed, and kissed her, and told her she hated when she smoked.

Now Lou sighs in her seat and sets down her glass. Maybe now is the time to up the ante.

“What about dessert?” she asks quite loudly, catching Debbie’s glance from her spot by the fridge. Lou reaches for her buttons and pulls one undone, revealing a little more skin below the layers of necklaces adorning her neck.

Debbie sighs with an eyeroll, hands planting on her hips. “You’re impossible,” she says.

“What,” says Lou, with that aura of nonchalance. “I got some cake down the street, didn’t I tell you? That nice little bakery, the new one.” She pulls undone another button.

Debbie squints at her, and Lou’s pretty lips burst into a grin.

“Alright, I lied, there’s no cake.”

“Why am I not surprised.” Debbie strolls on over to reclaim her seat and her drink.

Then Lou spreads her legs a little wider in her seat, puts on a little bit more of a come-hither pout. And not a moment later, she gets a coy smirk in response.

“You _really_ missed me,” says Debbie, all dripping with drama, and Lou immediately scoffs.

“Do you have to say it like that?”

“How many times have you thought of me, Lou?” Debbie’s eyes are all aglow as she smiles a teasing smile. “Do you dream about it? Do you touch yourself every night and say my name?”

Lou is clearly a bit flustered as she laughs. She sips her champagne to stall for time but still ends up stammering a terribly ineloquent denial.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Debbie asks her then.

Lou shakes her head. “No,” she answers. “I don’t like going to bars anymore. I don’t like the apps. And I hate emojis.”

Debbie watches her thoughtfully. “How long has it been?”

“I don’t know,” Lou honestly answers, and sighs. “I’m so bored by all these younger women. I got tired of making them cry.” She says it with annoyance in her voice, but also a heavy dose of sincerity. It’s not like she ever meant to make women cry, it’s just something that happens.

“I’m sorry,” says Debbie. At first it sounds sincere, but then-- “I’m so sorry you were out picking up women and tossing them aside, while I sat carving my toothbrush into a shiv.”

“Oh poor you,” Lou replies with a scathing measure of sarcasm. “You got caught, you face the consequences. Besides, you hatched your plan, or didn’t you?”

“This is not about me,” Debbie tells her.

“What’s not about you? Five years in prison and it’s not about you? Don’t you think you have a problem? And where did you get that blouse?” She gestures at the stolen shirt with a righteous look.

Debbie looks serious as anything. “What, are you so perfect now?” she says. “Did you become a nun while I was gone?”

Lou laughs and sips her champagne. She’s really amused at this point, really charmed and a little turned on if she’s honest. “You’re so cute when you argue,” she says.

Debbie’s the one to be flustered now. She tries not to show it, shifting in her seat and averting her eyes. But there’s an obvious undercurrent of warmth and attraction just below the surface.

“Yeah, I’ve become a nun,” says Lou. “No more cons. No more earthly possessions. I’m married to the Lord and I need you out of my house. I’m sorry-- His house.”

They lock eyes, exchange knowing looks, and then laugh together like old friends-- which, of course, they are.

“So dessert then,” says Lou.

“I thought you didn’t get any cake.”

Lou swirls the mouthful left in her glass. “You know it’s not cake,” she replies with a glint in her eye. She’s being a bit coy now, as though the front of her blouse isn’t already unbuttoned enough to see half her bra underneath it.

“You did buy me dinner,” says Debbie. And Lou downs the last of her champagne, tilting back the glass in that casual manner. The next thing she knows, she’s been pulled to her feet, and Debbie’s hands are gripping her waist while her warm breath tickles the side of her face. “How much have you missed me?” she asks.

Lou really tries to play it cool, and she’s normally so good at that, but right now she’s beginning to feel a little hot in the face, and there’s a surge of electricity tingling up her spine.

“A lot,” she admits. “I’m sorry, Deb, about what I said back then…”

They’re both allowing themselves a bit of vulnerability at this point.

“I’m sorry, too.” Debbie kisses at her cheek. “But that’s in the past. Don’t think about it.” She goes on kissing, hands shifting against the fabric of Lou’s shirt. The closeness is incredible, all hot and brilliantly exciting. “Still the same perfume?” says Debbie. “I did miss the way you smell.”

Lou can feel herself starting to smile. “What about the way I taste?” she asks.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Debbie gives a squeeze at her hips. “We have all the time in the world.”

Lou takes a shaky breath and lets it out. Her hands have just lifted, not sure yet what to do. She’s normally so assured, but she’s been waiting for this moment. Knowing that Debbie wants to take her time makes it all the more exciting. Lou can feel her heart beating in her chest. She can smell the hotel soap and stolen perfume on Debbie’s skin, new and unfamiliar.

But when they kiss, everything is familiar again. Lou’s hands find their way into Debbie’s hair, holding her close while their bodies remember the way they used to connect. They kiss deeply, with a longing and intensity that’s built up over years of separation. Lou is gasping for breath when Debbie shifts to kiss her neck, and she hisses out curses, weak in the knees from the glorious effect of Debbie’s mouth against her skin.

“Come to bed,” Lou tells her. “Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

Lou laughs freely as she leads her lover up the stairs, and she sheds her shirt as soon as they’re in the bedroom. She lies on the king-sized bed in her trousers and bra and pulls off her watch, but doesn’t bother with her jewelry. Debbie is on top of her and lip-locked too quickly to give her any time. Lou helps her get rid of that stolen blouse, and pushes back her hair to plant a few good kisses on her neck.

“Your hair is so long,” she mutters.

“It’s been like that,” Debbie reminds her.

“No, not this long. It’ll get in the way.”

“Well don’t start complaining.” Debbie glances in her eyes with a sweet sort of teasing look.

“Who’s complaining?” Lou pulls her in to lock lips again, enthralled by the heat of the contact between them without so much clothing. “God I’ve missed this,” Lou tells her. “Skin on skin, you know?”

“I guess.”

Lou nearly laughs. “Almost six years and all she can say is _I guess._ ”

Debbie doesn’t say anything, just stares in Lou’s eyes as though trying to tell her how badly she wants this without any words. Debbie strokes at her cheek, and Lou has the thought that her eyes are so lovely and trusting behind all that smoky makeup.

“I do miss the taste of you,” Debbie finally admits, and Lou makes a sound in her throat, a sweet and needy moan like she’s been waiting to hear that.

Their legs interlock while they kiss, and Debbie flexes the muscle in her thigh as she presses it hard between Lou’s, rutting up against her fast and steady enough to make her curse out loud. Their hips rock in time, in a rhythm that hastens as they taste each other’s tongues and whimper against each other’s lips, desire building all coiled up inside them.

Then Debbie reaches down between them, and she tugs the zipper on Lou’s trousers to slide her hand inside and feel the silky, wet heat against her fingers.

“Oh god.” Lou’s fingers grip at Debbie’s hair as she shudders beneath her. “Please, please,” she asks, really begs-- but Debbie’s fingers are gone just as quickly.

Lou watches her make the rather vulgar but really quite casual display of bringing her fingertips up to her lips for a taste.

“Oh, you are such a fucking tease,” Lou says, and they exchange looks-- Lou’s rather frustrated, and Debbie’s quite amused.

“You’re very cute when you beg,” Debbie tells her.

“Don’t get cheeky.”

Debbie tugs at Lou’s bra strap, lets it snap against her collarbone. “Take your clothes off,” she says.

So Lou gets right to it, reaching to undo the clasp, tugging at her waistband and finally tossing the rest of her clothes off the side of the bed. She doesn’t seem to mind that Debbie’s still clad in her slacks and bra and very nice watch. And when Debbie trails kisses downward to swirl her tongue hard against a nipple, the cry that escape’s Lou’s lips is high and unashamed.

“Jesus, you would think you’d never been touched before.” Debbie laughs against her chest.

“Oh shut up.”

“Remind me,” says Debbie, squeezing her breast against her palm. “Which of us hasn’t had any sex in years?”

“Don’t stop,” Lou tells her, and presses at the nape of her neck. “Maybe you haven’t had any sex, but I haven’t had any _good_ sex and that’s just as bad-- if not worse.”

Debbie really tries not to laugh. “Worse than prison?” she says, rolling a nipple between her fingertips.

“Yes,” Lou whines, and squirms just a bit. “Exactly,” she says. “Now fuck me, please. I need this.”

Debbie licks at her nipple and tugs it with her teeth, and Lou shivers with anticipation. Then those fingers slide down between her bare thighs, stroke her up and down a few times, dripping wet, and Lou rocks her hips as she tugs at Debbie’s hair, feeling more deeply vulnerable and trusting than she’s even been close to feeling in years.

“Please,” Lou whispers, begs. She’s washed up in a wave of emotion at the feeling of two fingers sliding inside her, and dizzy with bliss as Debbie works up the rhythm to fuck her faster and deeper.

“Is that good?”

The words barely surface over the haze of sensation, the hot and cold electric currents running through her as she’s caught up in the pleasure as though plunged undersea. How can she even think when the saltwater waves crash above her, and the depths pull her deeper, further and further gone...

“Yes,” she replies. “God, I love the way you fuck me, Debbie.”

She can hear the genuine emotion in Debbie’s breathless voice. “God I’ve missed you.”

“Oh, I’ve missed you too.”

Debbie gives her a few more good, hard, really _excellent_ thrusts. Then before she knows it, Lou has to adjust to a different sort of pleasure as kisses trail quickly down her chest and hands pry her legs further apart. Lou can hardly believe it how eager this woman is to get her head between her legs-- and stay there. Her mind is all a daze, her senses all lit up. She would curse, but all she can really do is whimper and moan like one of those hapless younger women she met on Tinder. Poor souls.

“Lou, would you help me with my hair?”

“What-- sorry.” Lou slides her hand into Debbie’s impossibly long mane of hair, vaguely trying to access the memory of where she might find a stray hair tie-- but god, oh, god Debbie’s tongue between her thighs is like absolute heaven. Lou leans up on her elbow to watch more closely, and Debbie is so focused, so eager in her task. It’s incredible to watch. For a moment they lock eyes, and Debbie flicks her tongue fast and hard, and Lou gives a gasp as she tugs at her hair. “God almighty,” she says. “Did you practice in the slammer?”

Debbie smiles against her pussy and smacks at her thigh as if to say, _”bad joke.”_ Then she shifts, and flicks her hair to the side, moving her fingers to brush up against the slick heat. She slides them inside while she goes on licking.

And Lou curses then.

 

“You… are… incredible.” Lou steals a sloppy kiss after she’s come on Debbie’s tongue, finally getting on top. “And there’s pussy all over your face.” She laughs, wiping her thumb at Debbie’s chin.

“How’s my makeup?”

“Awful.” Lou smirks at the smudge of mascara she wipes from Debbie’s cheek. “But you’re still gorgeous, honey.” Lou gazes in her eyes for a moment and strokes back her hair. She’s right on the edge of saying something far too sentimental, but instead she simply steals another kiss. “Take these off,” she says as she tugs at Debbie’s pants.

“Do you know I’m dripping wet?”

“Of course you are.”

Lou waits with a measured dose of patience while Debbie gets out of the rest of her clothes, breasts falling heavy and panties on the floor. Then Lou gets her hand between those smooth, warm thighs, and her fingers swim in slickness that makes her hum with pleasure. She leans down for a kiss and tries to flick her hair aside, but it’s still in the way. Debbie grins and helps her push it back. Lou can almost hear her voice-- _”Whose hair is in the way now?”_ \-- but Debbie’s not that much of a brat, not now. She’d rather share a kiss.

“You’re so wet,” says Lou, rather breathless.

“I told you.”

Lou shifts then to kiss at her chest and tease a nipple with her tongue, to touch a little lower, and finally-- of course-- to fuck her on her fingers like she’s wanted to do again for nearly six years. Debbie moans, really moans, and grabs hold of her hair, and Lou fucks her nice and slow, going just a little deeper and harder with each of her thrusts. Debbie shivers beneath her. The way she gasps and cries out is so desperate, so raw and real and beautiful.

Lou is overcome by desire. At one point she stops, only to grasp at Debbie’s thighs and shove them upward toward her chest, nearly folding her in half to get her head between her legs. Unfortunately, Lou’s very chic blonde crop still falls in the way.

“Well you’re no help,” she stops to say, and tries to push back her hair, all annoyed and interrupted. It’s amazing how one can fail to remember all the pesky logistics after some months without the pleasure of sticking one’s face between a willing woman’s thighs.

Debbie just looks up at her all stunned and confused.

“Open that drawer,” Lou tells her, nodding at the nightstand, and Debbie reaches out for it. Lou pulls her hair back in her fist and points. And dear, lovely Debbie produces a hair tie in her fingertips. “Thank you,” says Lou, very fully sincere, and Debbie smirks at the sight of her fastening her hair. Without another word, Lou gets back to going down on her.

And Debbie’s the one to curse then.

 

She sighs with a glow across her chest, all panting and smelling of sex when they’re done. Just as Lou remembers-- but with quite a bit longer and more unruly hair. It’s starting to grow on her-- ha, grow-- but really, it’s charming, the mane.

In fact it seems everything about Debbie is charming and lovely and endearing in her mind-- and Lou sighs at the thought as she lies there leaning on an elbow, the two of them naked except for their jewelry. Everything is quiet, save for what seems to be the thud of Lou’s own heart, echoing deeply as though through her very blood.

 _”I love you so much.”_ The words begin to echo through her mind in a voice like her own, as though she might say them. As though she might leap across that dangerous line.

“So what do you say,” says Debbie, breaking the actual silence in the room. “Will you be my partner?”

Lou sighs. “I’ll think about it.”

Debbie gives her a nudge. “Come on, Lou.”

“Is that why you fucked me?” Lou asks her then.

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

Debbie grabs her then for a sweet and tender kiss, passionate and lingering even in its gentle simplicity.

“Please do this with me,” she says.

“You’ll have to tell me the plan.”

“Alright. Breakfast?”

Lou gets a look in her eyes. “I could go for more dessert.”

Debbie’s surprised, but not displeased. “You’re insatiable,” she says.

“Guilty. Lock me up.” Lou reaches to grab another hair tie from the nightstand. “Oh, and take this.”

 

 

 

-

**Author's Note:**

> comments are my lifeblood please and thank you


End file.
